Fallen
by DemonicGleam
Summary: Maybe he hasn’t noticed. Hasn’t noticed the way it’s tearing me apart. But in a way, I shouldn’t be feeling betrayed. What sort of claim do I have over him? None." Ianto's POV. Now intermingled with Jacks POV. - FINISHED
1. I've Fallen

** I wanted to write a fix it but somehow this came out O.o. Placed somewhere around the time of Gwen's engagement to Rhys.**

* * *

I put his steaming cup of coffee on the coaster and he gives me a quick smile.

"Thanks" he says quietly and then looks out over the coffee, beyond his desk and past the windows of his office. From where he's sitting, he can see Tosh's, Owen's and Gwen's stations. I don't need to follow his eyes to know which station he's fixed on. My heart thumps painfully only once and then reverts to beating normally. But the pain echoes, it's dull but it's there. It's been there all day. It's been with me all week. Ever since she announced it to us. Ever since he started acting this way.

Maybe he hasn't noticed. Hasn't noticed the way it's tearing me apart. But in a way, I shouldn't be feeling betrayed. What sort of claim do I have over him? None.

Instead, this should be my wake up call. I should wake up and realize that this is what I am to him. Second. A runner-up. A constant rebound. No, how could this be a wake up call if I've known that all along.

I turn away and walk out of his office, descend the stairs and retreat into the archives. I wonder why I stay. Why is it that if he beckoned me or called out for me I'd do anything to get to his side?

Anything.

* * *

_Flashback_

Jack and Gwen come out from the cells. I immediately notice that Jack looks uneasy and from a distance try to discern the look behind his deep blue depths. His eyes are fixed on the floor as he walks and as soon as the stairs are in view he bolts. I turn my attention to Gwen who is looking up after him with what I think is pain, uncertainty and maybe even a hint of determination. I look up at the office once more and then turn back to the coffee machine.

Gwen clears her throat and as I turn around I see that she's forced a smile onto her face. Her lips look tight and her hands are fiddling nervously behind her back.

"I've got an announcement to make!" she exclaims and the edge in her voice doesn't escape me.

She sticks out her left hand and a glint of light has my eyes on her silver banded finger."I'm getting married!" she cries and this time her voice sounds a bit more sure, though I notice her eyes bounce off to the side and look up at his office. Tosh is the first one to react, thank god, or else an awkward silence would have ensued.

She squeals in a way only females are capable and jolts out of her chair, runs over and throws her arms around the eventual Mrs. Williams.

"Oh my god!" she shouts and grabs Gwen's hand, pulls it out in front of her. She twists and turns the hand and then smiles. The diamond on the ring sparkles brightly. "It's beautiful!" she lets go and hugs her again "congratulations" she squeezes tightly and then steps away.

That's cue for either Owen or me to extend our congratulations. I glance at Owen who has gotten up and with a small smile walks over to Gwen. "Well congratulations Mrs. Williams," he jokes and pulls Gwen in for a hug. She lightly stabs him in the gut and then hugs him back.

"Thank you," she says, directing it at both Tosh and Owen.

Owen pulls back and squeezes her shoulders, he steps back.

That leaves me. I instantaneously leave the coffee machine and pull out one of my many masks, this one portraying happiness. 'Congratulations' suddenly seems over-used so I say the next best thing. "Rhys is a very lucky man," I smile and then oddly pull Gwen in for a hug.

It's awkward and a bit strained at first but she relaxes and tightly hugs me back, almost as if asking for reassurance. Out of all the members at Torchwood, I would have to say my weakest relationship is with Gwen. Even Owen and I, though always at odds, are more than aware that we've got quite a strong friendship. All those nights at the pub have not been forgotten.

With Gwen however, I've never made much of an effort besides the usual business relationship. Come to think of it, if we hadn't gone out as a group, we would have never gone out at all. It's not very hard to distinguish why our relationship is as such. Admitting the reason though, is not a thought that passes through my mind very often. But, when it does it's blatantly obvious.

Jack.

I don't blame her though, not even for a second. Jack is very handsome - her attraction, my attraction. But, my jealousy leads me to often feel angry. For once, I'd like to tell her what's on my mind. 'You've got Rhys haven't you?' I repeatedly wish to say.

And Jack, yeah it's plainly obvious he fancies her. I can't completely tell the nature of their relationship but I can see it in the way he looks at her, the way his hand accidentally grazes hers when they pass something to each other.

It's there and it makes me feel one-inch tall. Time and time again I tell myself to put an end to it. I'm only causing my own misery. Confront him about it and then end it. But, when it comes down to it, I'm terrified of losing him.

Losing the one thing that's been keeping me going.

The one thing that I'm living for.

I'm scared.

* * *

_A few hours later_

I take out my stopwatch and my mind reels back to the times it really came in handy with Jack. That puts a stupid little smile on my face and I quickly drop it. I flick it open and check the time. By now all the coffee cups will be empty and refills are to be needed, or else Owen becomes adamant in yelling for me to hurry up. I wonder who would suffer more from caffeine withdrawal, him or Jack?

I leave the computer and steadily make my way out of the archives and to the coffee machine. I retrieve a tray and begin collecting the cups. The last one to be collected is Jacks and it passes in silence. I look down at his desk and notice much of his files have yet to be touched, possibly even looked at. I hold back a sigh and know that I'm in for a long night. My eyes shift over to him and to anyone else he would look just the same but to me, the details are evident. The way his hands are clasped together and his chin's resting on them as if he's contemplating something. The way the corners of his lips are slightly tilted downward, an echo of a frown. But most noticeable of all is the way he hasn't made one single teasing comment to me the whole day. I'm even wearing one of those suits that he finds irresistible, but I get no second glance. I turn away and head for the door. I stop and turn back, my mouth opens but the words aren't there. He looks over at me. I close my mouth and leave.

Back downstairs I wash the cups and turn the coffee machine on. I wait patiently and the humming from the machine sends a pleasant vibe through me. In a few hours it will be time for everyone to go home. I'll stay behind like I always do. He lives here, alone in the HUB. 'He must get lonely," I've always thought. So I stay. And maybe he doesn't want my company but if by chance he does, I stay and I offer it.

The humming stops and I fill the cups, my hands moving along knowingly and doing all the work without needing much thought. I place them back on the tray. I make my rounds. I walk the steps back up to Jack's office and place the cup on the awaiting coaster. This time he just offers me a glance and I can't help but feel hurt. I won't say anything though; I won't let my face show anything but the blankness. My perfectly poised mask will stay in place. I walk back to the door and this time the words have formed.

"All you have to do is say something," I hear myself say and hope he doesn't notice the way my voice trembles. He turns his head and looks at me quizzically. You're breaking my heart, like you've done so many times before. "All you have to do is say something," I repeat and my voice isn't my own, it sounds hollow "and she will say no, she'll come to you". He just blinks at me in response and his eyes look mildly confused. I stand there silently; I'm hoping he'll say something. Some reassurance that maybe I've been mistaken. Silence and I'm not at all surprised. I blink and his face blurs lightly. The pain is back and I quickly leave the office. I can feel his gaze on my back and I don't wipe my eyes, I can only hope he didn't notice.

I drop the tray beside the coffee machine and withdraw into the archives. I turn a corner and the gaze lifts. I lean against the wall and swipe my sleeve across my watery eyes. 'Shit' I curse myself for letting my emotions almost break through. I walk into the archives and slip into my chair. I suddenly feel exhausted and I lean back. Right now would probably be a good time, to tell him that I can't do this anymore. To finally release myself of this pain. That's what I would like to think. But, I've come to be sure of a few things. Maybe leaving him would indeed lift this pain, but I'm just not strong enough. Even if I can't do this anymore, I'll continue none the less for as long as I live, I will stay by his side. He breaks my heart, but he also mends it. He sinks it and he lifts it. And so I've fallen. I've fallen for him.

And, I've fallen so hard.


	2. Fragile Strength

**Continuing in Ianto's POV for the first bit.**

* * *

My alarm clock comes to life and loudly insists that I get up. The constant beeping isn't smooth or clear, it's crackly and seems to have lost it's rhythm. A continual reminder that it's due to be changed. But the unsettled beeping does have a pace and it seems to be much set after my life. It's not steady or fluent and it's tone changes from day to day. I sit up, let it linger for a moment and turn it off. It's perfect.

In the shower, I let the water run cold. It pricks my skin and goosebumps blossom over my arms and legs. I close my eyes and let my head drop into the frosty stream. I stay for no longer then 5 minutes and when I emerge, I am fully awake. I don a soft towel around my waist and use a smaller one to dry my hair. I choose to go with a delicate blue tie today. Blue, the color of stability and calm. It might come in handy.

I change and gel my hair up neatly; applying just the right amount to keep it raised and still soft. I open the drawer of my nightstand and recover my stopwatch. I recall one late night a few weeks ago when Jack asked me about it. "Why a stopwatch?" he inquired at random and the question threw me off. I thought about it and shrugged in response. How was I supposed to tell him that it bore no real significance. No real significance before him.

I open the refrigerator and take out a bag of sesame seed bagels. My eyes hover over a bottle of CoffeeMate. I rarely use cream in my coffee but Jack does. Jack does, so it's there. I ponder for a while my own foolishness as I wait for the toaster to spit out my breakfast. When the toasted bagel pops out, I spread some butter on both pieces and sit down. I eat slowly, taste nothing. I contemplate. There's this foolish hope that I hold on to. One where I mean something more to Jack, something more than this. In light of recent events though, it seems that I am hoping against hope. And the further it goes the tighter my hold becomes.

Reason is telling me to let go, to leave and start anew. Love is telling me to stay and hold on, to blindly remain and maybe things will be better.  
Unfortunately for me though, love and reason are sworn enemies.

As I walk the wooden planks toward the tourist office the sky becomes a light, hazy gray. Dark clouds in the distance follow the cold breeze rolling off from the sea, bringing them inching closer towards me. There's a faint sound of crashing waves. I can taste the sea in the wind. I walk into the office and the taste changes; paper, ink, plastic and coffee.

First I check my e-mails. Most of which are fairly similar. A long list of different government officials and agencies that Jack hasn't called. Meaning today I'll have to take it upon myself to call them and apologize on his behalf, give them a feigned reason for his negligence and then reschedule. I'm not entirely annoyed at the fact either, this being a rather common occurrence.

Secondly I run a scan of our systems. This checks for hackers, glitches, viruses and much more. It ensures that Torchwood is secure and running properly. I lock the screen and then dim it. While the scan runs its course I'll begin making coffee.

I step into the silence of the Hub a bit nervously, not that anyone would be able to tell, for my face is blank. I am quite certain that today, Jack and I will act as if nothing has happened, as if everything is well. As if I am okay. At once I feel both relieved and uneasy. I'm torn between wanting things to change and being terrified of said change. I quickly make my way through the silence, emitting little sound. I don't look up at Jack's office. Instead I focus myself intently on making coffee, though the habitual movements no longer need much concentration.

The Hub's large door rolls open loudly and I can hear the distinct click-clack of heels echoing off the floor. I accordingly reach for Tosh's cup just as she calls out a greeting to me.

"Good morning," I turn around briefly and then turn back to fill her cup. I take it and walk over to her desk, set the steaming cup on it gently. "Careful, it's hot," I glance at her and she smiles at me appreciatively. "Windy outside, is it?" I eye her wind blown hair and she runs her fingers through the messy strands.

"Yeah, it's really dark and dreary," she stops combing her hair and wraps her hands around the warm cup "I think it's going to rain."

I nod in assent and walk away as her computer buzzes to life, a multitude of screens lighting up at once. Gwen usually comes in shortly after Tosh so I go to fill her cup next, and as premeditated the door rolls open a few minutes later.

"Bloody freezin' out there!" Gwen exclaims as she walks into the Hub. I've already got her cup in my hand and set it down on her desk just as she drapes her leather jacket over the back of the chair. "Thanks," she smiles and then reaches for the warmth.

I imagine the weather must have taken a rapid turn for the worst since I first walked in. Further confirmation soon comes in the form of Owen cursing the wind and cold as he walks in. I've got his coffee in front of him before he can yell at me and he takes it from my hands quickly, offering me a mumbled thanks. I have to suppress a laugh because I know Owen hates it when he has no means of making a snide comment at me.

I sigh as I walk back to the coffee machine, the last cup that needs to be filled stares at me. I stare back. I pour the dark liquid slowly, letting the steam swirl around in front of me. In a way, leaving Jack's cup for last prolongs the pain. Making his first and getting it over with seems to make a lot more sense. I suddenly realize that bringing Jack his coffee has become synonymous with the phrase "get it over with". Has it really become just some mundane task?

I take the cup in my hands. I dismiss the thoughts of it being an unpleasant task. It can't be so when I still look forward to seeing him. Still look forward to opening that door and seeing him, sitting behind his desk. I stand before the closed door for a moment. I knock softly and then walk in.

"Good morning Sir," the words force themselves from my lips. I avert my eyes from his face and place the coffee down on his desk. I have to remind myself to breathe. I haven't even looked at him but the room is suffocating with tension. I slowly look up and our eyes meet. It feels like a severed wire has just been reattached. I look away; I break it. Turning on my heel I make for the exit. The tension weighs me down and my movements feel like they have been slowed. I turn the knob and the door opens just barely.

"Ianto," the way he says my name makes my breath hitch. He says it softly and uncertainly, as if he's not sure that he's just called on the right person.

I close the door, steal a quick breath and then turn around. I take a few steps forward. "Sir?" good, my voice betrays nothing. I notice he flinches at the formality but quickly regains his composure.

His lips part and then close. I can see in his agitated eyes and in his clenching and unclenching fists the turmoil. What I can't see is turmoil over what. Is he going to tell me that I was right? That he does love Gwen. That I've been nothing but a part-time shag? I wonder if I'll even be able to hear him over the beating of my heart. It pounds away in my chest, my throat and in my ears. The only thing that's keeping me standing is his eyes, I'm tethered to them.

His lips keep opening and closing and not knowing what he's going to say is driving me insane. But I'm not even sure that he knows what he's going to say. Finally he takes a deep shaky breath and his eyes are full of decision. He opens his mouth with purpose and I wince as the pounding in my ears gets louder.

He begins to exhale, the breath forming into the beginning of a word but his voice is drowned out. The door behind me opens.

"Jack!" Gwen exclaims in a huff "Tosh has been yelling up here for hours! There have been various Weevil sightings around the...area...and," Gwen's voice trails off into silence.

I blink once and then peel my eyes away from Jack's. I glance at Gwen whose eyes are darting from Jack to me with obvious uneasiness.

I swallow dryly, my throat clenches painfully. Jack's eyes are still trained on me as if he's unaware of the intrusion. He glances over to Gwen, back to me and then quickly back to Gwen as if seeing her for the first time. He clears his throat and then smiles at her with insincere ease. "What was that Gwen?" his voice takes on his usual playfulness.

Gwen looks at him and then at me. "Well, uh," her voice looses it's volume, she clears her throat before continuing "there have been a few Weevil sightings around the city." She regains her disposition. "It seems that the weather is rather..." the rest of her sentence is muffled by the door as I leave the room.

I'm instantly alleviated of the tension of Jack's office, and breathing seems to come back. How ironic, I think, is it that Gwen was the one who had interrupted Jack. Just when he was about to tell me that he had chosen her over me. Surprisingly I don't feel the sting of pain that I wait for. Instead there's just a searing numbness. There's nothing.

I quickly walk down the stairs. All I want is the confines of my office and I have to force my legs to slow down to a moderate pace. I pass by Tosh's desk but I am stopped when her sincere voice calls out to me.

"Ianto," I turn around to face her "are you alright?" the concern shining in her eyes has me wanting to wrap my arms around her with gratitude.

I offer her a soft smile. "Yes, I'm fine," I pause and I can see she's little convinced "just going to do some work in the office, so call if you need me" my voice is smooth and unperturbed of the feelings that are boiling beneath the surface.

She smiles at me and her eyes are full of promise, full of worry. Thank you Tosh. I turn away from her gentle features and make my escape. I walk through the cog door just as Jack steps down from the staircase. I let the metal door slide shut behind me, I don't turn back. Let the thick metallic wall echo the distance between us.

* * *

"Jack!" Tosh's voice is quiet but anxious and I walk over to her, holding back a heavy sigh. She looks up at me with searching eyes. I don't know if I've got the answer. "Is," her eyes dart to the closed door where Ianto had disappeared "is he alright?" her eyes are troubled. She doesn't wait for an answer. I don't have the answer. "He's doing it again," she sighs and her gaze is almost maternal "shutting himself away." She takes on a sudden serious air and locks our gazes resolutely. "He's strong Jack," her voice is firm "but he's still fragile" firm but pleading.

"Jack!" Gwen calls me from the invisible lift "I've got the location of the Weevils."

My eyes don't leave Tosh's. I give her shoulder a light squeeze. Reassurance for both her and myself. "I know," I withdraw and join Gwen on the lift.

As it ascends I watch the metal door and the distance grows between us until I step off the lift outside. I ask Gwen if she would mind driving and she silently climbs into the driver's seat. I sit in the passengers seat and if it weren't for the trees blurring by outside, I wouldn't have noticed we'd even started driving. _Fragile_. Tosh's troubled face makes my heart twinge. I know Tosh. I'm sorry. As team leader it seems that I'm struggling. I'm supposed to offer guidance, instruction and take some damned responsibility. I've lived a thousand years and feel none the wiser. The sigh I had been holding back finally escapes. A hesitant hand reaches out and places itself on my thigh. I look down at the long fingers and stare at the gleaming rock that despite the dark weather persists to shine. Gwen doesn't look at me and I don't brush her hand away. I stare at the ring with a mix of contempt and relief. I place my hand over hers and look back out the window. It feels right and it feels wrong. The desire to touch and to be touched, the warmth and heat of another body. The hurt in Ianto's eyes, visible even through his best attempts at hiding it. The loyalty, hope and confusion. And the never ending kindness and care that I don't deserve.

I focus on Gwen's face in the reflection of the window. Attraction, yes there's an attraction. There's want. But, it's different. With Ianto there's a difference. There's more then an attraction, there's more then just want. I've ignored it. Pushed it back into the dark recesses of my mind. Because if I choose to recognize it, I bring forth vulnerability and my defense crumbles. It will crumble before him and let him in. I've never let anyone in and I don't intend to.

His back turned to me as the metal door slides shut. I grip Gwen's hand gently, lift it and let go. She glances at me and places it on the steering wheel.

Shit. Okay now what. I wonder how I will convey this little message to Ianto. With words seems like a good way to go but, men just don't talk about their feelings like that. I don't just talk about my feelings like that. Well, there's that and the fact that I'm scared of what it will mean if I do. I don't have any time to think things through as Gwen suddenly slams on the brakes and we are both flung forward and then back. I look at her sharply but she's already out of the car. I throw off my seat belt and accordingly throw the door open, quickly jumping out and following her. The Weevil runs a few paces in front of us. I notice that we're in a park and am silently thankful that nobody is outside today because of the weather. It's one thing dealing with a Weevil, but the job is made entirely more difficult when you have to explain to people that the thing that they just saw is actually some... "Jack!" Gwen surges to the left and I slow down. The Weevil has turned around and is snarling, its lips curling back like a rabid dog. I give it a quick look over. It's of average build so it shouldn't be too hard to take down. I reach into my greatcoat for a can of anti-Weevil spray and find nothing. I look over at Gwen and shrug my shoulders innocently, smiling at her with as much charm as I can manage. She rolls her eyes impatiently, she loves it when I smile at her like that. However her reaction has much left to be desired. Ianto's however;the way his cheeks go pink and he tries to act like he doesn't want me then and there. Now that reaction is much more enjoyable. Huh, not good. This whole day my thoughts have either been about Ianto or something else...eventually leading back to Ianto.

There's a quick stab of pain in my side and I'm on the ground. Gwen gets off of me and stands up quickly, gun drawn. She waves it back and forth. I get up and draw my Webley on the second Weevil that's just joined the party. "Thanks," I nod to Gwen who looks at me curtly and focuses on the Weevil closest to her.

"We have no spray," the Weevils move back and forth on their feet snarling and foaming at the mouth "what do we do?" she sends me a quick glance.

"Well basically what I do is," I level my Webley with one of the Weevil's heads and slowly pull the trigger; sending the bullet smack into the middle of its cranium. The Weevil makes a sort of groan and falls back, twitching once or twice before lying still. Gwen's eyes widen and she looks at me in surprise. "Don't worry," I aim my revolver at the other Weevil "their heads are so thick that all this will do is knock it unconscious for while" I squeeze the trigger. Both Weevils lie on the ground, unmoving. "Hopefully they'll stay as so until we get back to the Hub," I grab one by the ankles and look up at Gwen "you okay with dragging that one?". She takes the second one like I did and starts dragging it across the grass.

Luckily the Weevil didn't get too far and we reach the car shortly. I lift both of the creatures into the back seat, one of them drips saliva all over it. Ianto won't like that. I stop for a moment and then close the door slowly. I let my forehead rest against the window and close my eyes. I'm overcome by an incessant need to see him. I don't know what I plan to say or what I plan to do but I need to see him. My eyes jolt open and with a great sense of purpose and determination I walk around the car and jump into the driver's seat. Gwen hops in beside me and raises her eyebrow quizzically. I gun the engine and, (hopefully without the rubber of the tires being burned) spin the SUV around and floor it. I can only wish that this sense of determination lasts until I see him. God, I need to see him.


	3. Hope Dies Last

** It starts from Jack's POV and each line break you encounter switches the POV. Hopefully it won't be confusing.**

* * *

Besides the few bewildered looks Gwen sends my way the ride is relatively quiet. If you ignore the screech of tires every time I turn a corner that is. I'm glad she doesn't say anything because it gives me some time to try to figure out exactly what the hell I am doing. Thinking and drawing a blank each time. At the moment the speed of the SUV is a consequence both because of the need to see Ianto and also because there is little to no cars on the streets and I feel like I'm in an action movie. I do fit the image of dashing hero quite well anyways. Another screech of tires and Cardiff Bay expands before me; the little tourist office that is Torchwood's cover making itself seen. I slow down as we approach and then stop completely when the wooden dock elongates ahead. I quickly yell over my shoulder at Gwen to call Owen up to help her with the Weevils. The minute my feet hit the ground, I'm running. Action movie, I smile despite myself. The only thing that's missing is an explosion behind me and then a slow-mo of me jumping over the railing and diving into the Bay. But, this isn't True Lies and I'm not Arnold Schwarzenegger. Instead, I am Captain Jack Harkness; running towards an uncertain goal, with gut feeling driving me forward. The door to the office is suddenly in front of me and I all but gracefully enter. My legs grow stiff the moment I step inside and then there's me, there's him and I'm just as confused and as lost as he is.

* * *

I place the phone back on the receiver and cross out yet another name on the list. So far, taking to this task has taken my mind off of other things. My eyes quickly look over the last name and I let out a stifled groan. The Prime Minister! For God's sakes, I sometimes wonder exactly who Jack thinks he is. Separate from the government, outside the police, beyond the United Nations. I suspect Jack thinks he's even above the Queen, besides the three aforementioned. Outside there's a dull screech of tires. I reach for the phone and punch in the numbers for the Prime Minister's office, silently praying he won't be there. As the phone rings I run over in my head what I will say. Simple reasons I doubt will satisfy him so I try to conjure up something more in depth. There's a muffled thumping somewhere outside and it get's louder. The line connects and the Prime Minister himself answers, much to my initial shock. I was expecting a secretary.

"So Torchwood finds the time to call back now do they?" a contemptuous tone which I don't blame him for. I highly doubt the Prime Minister is used to being kept waiting. I am about to answer when the door opens. That being an understatement I'd rather say the door is flung open with such speed and power that it swings on it's hinges and smashes against the wall; causing an almost explosive eruption in the silent room. As a result my brain activates my reflexes, which in turn causes the phone to fly out of my hand and my legs to jump up and move away. Simply put; if I had also screeched (which I didn't!) one would much liken the scene to a cat being spooked out of it's wits; hair bristling on end, claws drawn and tail puffed out.

The cause of the commotion stands before me; eyes bright with excitement and anxiety mixed into a familiar blue tint. Chest heaving up and down as if he had just run a marathon and mouth hanging slightly ajar; unceremoniously sucking in air.

We both just stare for a moment unblinking. His erratic breathing slowly dies down to a more calm and rhythmic sound. I then blink and clear my throat, stand up straight and adjust my tie. "Sir?" I notice the excitement in his eyes has been taken over by nervousness, the anxiety remains "is something wrong?" I would very much like to know what caused him to nearly bring down the tourist office.

"Ianto," Jack straightens up and I never knew that my name could be said in so many different ways. It's as if he's reading off of a script...with the rest of the lines missing because only silence follows. I almost answer him. Yes, I know Jack. I hope you and Gwen are happy. And in a way that's not entirely a lie. If being with Gwen would indeed make Jack happy then I suppose I should be glad for him. Despite telling myself that, my heart is sinking rapidly. God, I don't want to hear this. But, I need to hear this. The reality of our situation. I look at him and wait for the blow. His eyes just dance across my face; it's as if he's making last minute decisions. Out of my peripheral vision there is a flashing light that momentarily distracts me. I spare a glance towards the origin and I uncomprehendingly look at the telephone, whose Line 1 button keeps on lighting up. My mouth opens into a little 'O' and my eyes widen.

Oh my God. Realization dawns on me. I hung up on the Prime Minister! I grab the phone rapidly and click the flashing button that had commanded my attention.

"Mr. Prime Minister, I am terribly sorry for the delay" I attempt at making my voice sound fluent and learn something new about myself. My throat can deliver quite a high pitch. The Prime Minister seethes angrily about how it's one thing being kept waiting by the head of Torchwood but something very much more demeaning when being hung up on by his secretary. Archivist actually, assistant maybe but secretary stings a bit. Preoccupied with the furious man on the other end of the line, I don't notice Jack sigh impatiently and walk over to me until he plucks the phone out of my hand briskly.

"I'm kind of busy right now Gordon. I'll call you another time" and with that the Prime Minister or 'Gordon' for those like Jack who sit up top some throne well beyond human perception call him; is cut off...again.

I can't absorb anything that's just happened because I'm abruptly thrown against the nearest wall and pinned by familiar lips. Jack's intoxicating scent wraps itself around my nose and any resistance I might have had evaporates. There's something jutting into my back but I let Jack push me further. My eyes slowly open. Jack's eyebrows are knit together in what would appear like anger but there's a contradicting softness in the way he moves against my mouth. Like a curtain, my eyelids drop and now there's only his heat, his tongue and somewhere in between a sense of desperation. One hand knots itself in my short hair; angling my head as he pleases, whilst his other cups the right side of my face; unbearably gentle yet demanding my submission. I grip his arms tightly; the fabric of his shirt bunching into folds under my grasp. All the pain, fear, despair and hope that I've kept hidden. That's been lying just beneath the surface seeps into this kiss as I move back against Jack's mouth. I tightly shut my eyes against approaching tears because for once, I can feel that I'm not the only one who's been in pain or who has fear.

Jack pulls back but his forehead remains against my own. Our eyes are still closed, our hands are still gripping and our breaths are mingling in the space between us. Jack's eyes open languidly and even though mine are shut, I know he's looking at me. I know because of the shiver that crawls up my spine. That same shiver I get every time his gaze is set on me keenly. His thumb moves in lazy circles against my jaw, moving up to my cheek and I lean into his touch subconsciously.

"I'm sorry," he whispers in a low, husky voice and his hot breath hits my face like a warm wave. For a moment I can only focus on breathing in his scent and breath. Then when my brain slowly processes what he's said my eyes open and I'm searching his face, his eyes, his nose and his mouth for meaning.

"Ianto, I'm sorry," he repeats in a hoarser voice and his eyes close for a moment before opening again "for Gwen," he shakes his head slightly "I mean, she's...important" he chooses the word carefully and looks at me a bit sadly. "But you," a ghostly smile graces his lips "with you, it's different" his voice shakes ever so slightly. He looks down and then back into my eyes and I hate it. I hate the effect he has on me. I hate that he's stripped me bare and I can't hide the longing and lust that burns deep within me. The brilliant blue color that adorns his eyes softens considerably. "Tonight," the hand holding the back of my head lightly slides down to cup my face "after everyone has gone," he leans in and brushes our lips together and I have to force my eyes to persist being open "stay" he places an air-like kiss on my lips.

An unendurable silence places itself in our midst. On my part it's not as silent as it seems because my mind is racing almost side by side with my heart. I'd always believed that there's only that one voice in your head. You know that one that always seems to interrupt you when you're lying to yourself or trying to shut something out. The one that makes you face everything you don't want to. Well I've come to discover that I have many of that 'one' voice and for once it's just as squandered as I am. In my head there's a loud uproar of similar questions.

"What does he mean? What does that mean? Does that mean that he doesn't love Gwen? She's important but with me it's different? How so? In what way? Different good? Different bad?"

"Ianto...say something?!" Jack sounds nervous and mildly frightened. I'm rather enjoying seeing him so displaced.

In a swift second all the voices stop. There are no more questions, no uproar or confusion. A steady happiness settles down and hitches a ride on my blood vessels until every part of me is feeling it. Though Jack's...confession as I'll call it has much left to be desired there's something so much more important that's happened. Jack has basically let down his guard. He'd allowed himself to become vulnerable. And, he'd done that...for me. I replay the scene in my head over and over again until I'm basked in a mortifying and subtle bliss.

Jack hasn't made any promises of no more pain or no more fear or of some delusional happy ending. And, I'm entirely fine with that. I don't expect any of those things as it is. What Jack has done though, is made an effort. For me, he let his defense fall.

With that knowledge adding a new pace to my heart. I look up at his now worried and expectant face. The way he flew into the office. The way he had hung up on the Prime Minister. The way his lips felt against mine. What he had said and done. I can't help the smile that stretches across my face nor the bubbling chuckle that escapes my throat. He takes in the laughter and furrows his brows with evident confusion and his flustered features are suddenly so funny that I let out a loud chuckle. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him in for a hug. For all intents and purposes I'll say truthfully it might be the awkwardest hug ever. I realize oddly that Jack and I have never just held each other; so right now he peculiarly fixes his arms around my waist.

"Thank you," I whisper into his ear and holding each other has become so relaxed that it almost feels natural. I know that his feelings toward Gwen haven't magically ceased nor disappeared, or that his never ending flirting has gone. I also know that the pain that's been weighing me down lately is still there but, it's lighter. I think that this might mean that these feelings that I have aren't one-sided after all. I'd like to think that. Can I continue thinking that Jack?

* * *

I wrap my arms around his waist a bit stiffly. I don't remember ever having held him before, but it seems easy enough. I let out an inconspicuous sigh of relief. For just a second I wonder if I've done the right thing and I know that I haven't. These bonds that I forge while I am here; they just make everything so much more difficult. So much harder to let go, to turn away from. And then I breathe in his scent and I know that there are no regrets. And then he whispers into my ear and I feel like I've finally done something good for him. I can't promise you that everything will be okay but goddammit I'll try Ianto.

As if questioning my sudden resolve, thoughts of Gwen come to mind. Her face, her eyes. Even that gap between her teeth that on any other person would be a total turn-off. I tighten my grip on him and smile at the way those unruly hairs at the back of his neck curl up and tickle my chin.

I think about Gwen getting married. It's gotten much easier to deal with. No longer is there that heavy regretful sigh. It's better this way, she needs normality. She deserves normality. Saying this I then deliberate that Ianto deserves normality too. He deserves so much more then I can offer him. I imagine him with someone other then myself. Some foreign hands holding and caressing him. Foreign lips kissing him and exploring the body that I've become so familiar with. I chew this over with a growing sense of panic and discomfort. I'm sorry Ianto, but I think I'm going to be a little bit selfish.

The concealed door that lies just behind the wall begins to slide open and Ianto and I are on opposite ends of the room faster than one could imagine. Ianto finds the floor suddenly to be of interest and me, I find the ceiling of amazing proportions. Tosh walks in and looks at the distance between us with concern. I smile at her and hope she get's the message; its okay. Ianto looks up and asks her if he could help her with anything.

"Actually I just wanted to ask Jack," I lift my head and both Ianto and I are back into the seriousness of work; as serious as I can be anyways. "What we should do with the Weevils" for a second I literally have no idea what she is talking about because I'm busy deliberating if what's happened between Ianto and I represents fighting and making up. I've heard make-up sex is really the best. "Jack?" right, back to the seriousness of work.

"Uh, yeah the Weevils, we don't really need them because we've already got Janet, so just release them back into the sewers" Tosh nods and leaves.

Ianto and I look over at each other and as I exhale a smile form on my lips. "See you after work," he nods with a slight blush accenting his cheeks and presses the button under his desk. The door slides open and before it slides shut I turn back. He smiles at me and goes back to his work. Tonight, amongst other things, I might just try this hug thing again. It felt kinda nice.

* * *

Tosh and Jack have left. Leaving me staring at the computer blindly. Somewhere a voice reminds me that the Prime Minister will probably be out to get us now but I muffle it and try to make sense of everything. I imprint in my mind every single word and movement Jack made. I try to emboss every feeling his touch insinuated. My heart hasn't stopped racing, there's this goofy smile on my face that refuses to go away and my cheeks are burning with happiness. In general I feel like a complete idiot. An idiot for letting myself be filled with joy at the mere thought that Jack might not see me as just a part-time shag after all. I check the time on my stopwatch and it's much too long until the others go home. I want to just hold him again. Hold him and let worry and fear get lost in ecstasy.

Maybe I'm stupid. Maybe I'm naïve. But maybe hope dies last.

* * *

**Ta-da! I hope you've enjoyed the last chapter :)  
**

**Thank you all for reading and reviewing. I appreciate it!**

**xxDemonicGleam  
**


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